Truth, in the Nighttime
by rebeck
Summary: An insight into Chase's past. Set during Season 5.


This story is set when Season 5 I guess, when Cameron and Chase were still together. I wish they still were :( I've made my own speculations as to the timeline of Chase's life, but I tried to go with what has been established on the show.

* * *

"Robert, what's the date of that conference we're going to next month?" Cameron hollered from the kitchen. She was standing next to the calendar with a pan in her hand.

"June 9th!" Chase yelled from the bathroom. His response was slightly muffled by the sound of the blowdryer.

Cameron lifted the page and scanned the calendar for the date. Nothing else had been marked for the 9th. However, the date June 6th was underlined in pen for some reason. _I wonder why that is, _Cameron mused to herself.

Chase emerged from the bathroom and grabbed his messenger bag from the couch. "Ready to go?" he asked.

Cameron hesitated, considered asking him about it. She knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't tell her on his own. But she also knew that now was not the time.

"Yes, let's go," she replied, grabbing her coat as they headed out the door. Chase kissed her lips as he closed the door. _How does he still manage to give me butterflies? _Cameron thought, and laced her fingers with his.

* * *

Nearly a month later, Cameron and Chase were lying in bed together. It was almost 3am but neither had fallen asleep yet. With her head against his chest and her legs entwined with his, she could hear his soft and steady heartbeat. Chase was unusually quiet this night, and Cameron had no idea as to what was going on inside his head.

"Rob?" Cameron said, breaking the silence and lifting her head.

"Yeah?" he responded, looking at her curiously.

For a minute, Cameron didn't speak, and the two just stared at each other for a moment. She was debating whether to ask her question.

"I saw on the calendar, June 6th, you underlined it. I, uh, was wondering if there was a reason for it?"

Immediately his gaze changed, his eyes reflecting a sadness that Cameron had seen few times before. She surmised that she had stepped into extremely personal and private territory and instantly regretted what she had done.

Chase looked away from her eyes and down towards the floor. Cameron looked at him with deep concern, and began tracing circles on his shirt with her fingers, as if to comfort him and to calm her nerves.

"You uh, don't have to tell me if…" she started.

"No, it's okay," Chase replied, cutting her off and finally looking back into her eyes. Yet he still hesitated, deliberating sharing the reason with her. He hardly told anyone anything about himself, and although Allison was his girlfriend he told her scarcely more.

"June 6th was my, uh, my mother's birthday," he pronounced finally, his accent thick with emotion. "I underline it to remind myself, I guess. Make sure I think of her that day," he continued, though the truth was there was never a day where she didn't cross his mind.

Cameron inhaled sharply. She knew next to nothing about Chase's mother, except that her name was Marketa and she had been dead for many years.

"Do you want to tell me about her?" Cameron dared to ask, unsure if it was the right thing to do but choosing to anyway.

Silence endured. For what seemed like an eternity, Chase avoided her gaze and focused on twisting the bed sheet tightly.

"She was an amazing musician," he eventually said. "She played the piano, the harp and the violin, and she was equally talented at all of them. I learned the piano and the violin from her, starting when I was 5, I think." He said all of this very slowly, as if he was sorting through a filing cabinet of memories and trying to find the best ones.

Cameron immediately thought of the photo that sat atop Chase's dresser of a small, blonde youngster touching the strings of a harp that was taller than him whilst a beautiful wavy haired woman stood behind him, smiling.

"She was wonderfully patient, and kind," he continued. "She would play music at the homeless shelters in Melbourne, and sometimes she would play for the patients where my dad worked. And she would sit with me and listen to me play for hours, and never got frustrated when I messed up the notes."

_One time, about six months ago, Camero__n had come home early and walked in to the melodic sound of a violin. She couldn't recall what song he had been playing, but she remembered being stricken by the beauty of the music and the talent with which Chase played. _

_As she entered their bedroom, he failed to notice her and continued to play as she stood in the doorway. It was only when Cameron applauded at the end of the song that he emerged from his harmonic trance. For a moment, he was like a deer in headlights, shocked that anyone had heard him play. But then, he began playing again for his audience of one. _

"It's been nearly 16 years since she died, and, I, I, I'm starting to forget things about her. And it scares me," Chase said silently, almost a whisper.

It felt like a fist was painfully twisting Cameron's insides. She'd had no idea how much his mother's death still affected him. It hurt her to see how much pain it was causing him.

"I can't remember what she smelled like, and it's hard to remember her voice. I can still hear her when she sang, but even that is getting a little hazy," he confessed. Tears welled in his eyes, and he hoped that Cameron didn't see them in the darkness.

Words seemed to fail her at the moment. Maybe there just weren't any that fit the situation. Memories fade over time, but just because it was inevitable didn't make it any less painful.

Cameron delicately touched his cheek and he turned to her. His face was a mix of emotions, of melancholic nostalgia and painful grief. Their eyes locked briefly, before she brushed his hair behind his ear and kissed his lips quickly.

Soon after, Chase fell asleep and Cameron's head was back on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart and his rhythmic inhalations. Sometimes, for them, it was better to leave things unsaid.


End file.
